Meanwhile, under the "leadership" of Bolsonaro, Brazil appears to be slouching towards a COVID hell of sorts* with sustained infection rates that result in many fatalities, yet not high enough to achieve herd immunity.
>>>In Brazil, where more than 488,000 people have already died due to COVID-19 — second only to the United States — pseudoscience has become government policy. Bolsonaro regularly promotes repurposing unproven and cheap drugs to his nearly 40 million social media followers as he continues to minimize the gravity of the pandemic and dismiss its victims. Meanwhile, his administration has spent millions of dollars to produce, purchase and promote pills such as the lice medication ivermectin, the antimalarial chloroquine and popular antibiotic azithromycin as well as anticoagulants, painkillers and a set of vitamins. The Ministry of Health and numerous doctors endorsed using a combination of these medications to treat COVID-19, even though there is no solid evidence that it works.<<<
In one of the hardest hit countries in the world, the main strategy is a so-called early treatment combo of unproven medications — endorsed by President Jair Bolsonaro.
www.npr.org
*Edit: Apologies to Yeats for the shameless ripoff:
The Second Coming
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of
Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
Turning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are…
www.poetryfoundation.org